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The True Optimist

So it’s been about four months that Pickle has been fully potty trained. She’s doing great – dry through the night, zero accidents, and is really enjoying this new skill. She has no trouble exclaiming to anyone within earshot that she has just successfully done what we all do but don’t discuss….used the potty. It’s hard no to share in her true excitement and pride.

Lately, she’s been fascinated by her poop. What can I say, I guess when you are two and a half, poop is pretty high up on the list of fascinating things. I must admit, I’ve become, as all mothers do, very familiar with my child’s poop and, well, I’m pretty fascinated too. How in the world can such a small human produce….well, you get the picture. Anyway, despite the gross nature of it, I do enjoy seeing her pride swell at the production of her generous poop.

We are lucky to live near a few ice cream shops. Much different from where we came from where everything was at least twenty minutes away. Here, it’s different. A cone is a quick four-minute car ride away. Needless to say, lately we’ve been visiting this one shop with some regularity. (I won’t comment on the frequency.) Anyway, I can’t say that Pickle actually knows what the flavors are or which one she likes. The choices are made solely on what the ice cream looks like. So we stumbled upon an interesting flavor called Superman. Superman ice cream is a combination of fruit flavors in three colors: yellow, pink, and blue. Love at first sight. And apparently at first bite, too because she loved it. Superman is the going favorite.

For those of you with kids, or those of you who enjoy green snowballs probably know where we are headed. I mentioned the colors, right? Pink, yellow, and blue. Yep. Yellow and blue make green.

It’s become customary to inspect the poop once it’s in the potty. You would not believe the joy and excitement when Pickle discovered that her poop was green. “Superman poo-poo!” was all I heard exclaimed through the house. So, now, you can imagine we are on a constant search for Superman poo-poo on a regular basis. She’s obviously
yet to learn the actual process so she doesn’t quite understand why we can’t have Superman poop all of the time.

Nonetheless, after finishing our business one day recently she did her basic inspection and declared, with what I suspected was a hint of disappointment, “It’s not Superman poo-poo Mommy.” Before I could even form a sentence she had pumped her fists and shouted, “But it has corn in it! YAAAAAYYY!” The potty dance ensued…